


Character Sketch: Bruno Tonioli

by MistressKat



Series: Character Sketches [4]
Category: Strictly Come Dancing RPF
Genre: Character Study, Depression, Ficlet, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 06:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15114008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat
Summary: The roof of his mouth tastes sour, lemon and alcohol and insomnia all clinging to his skin like ghosts.





	Character Sketch: Bruno Tonioli

**Author's Note:**

> About a month ago when I got very, very drunk I wanted to write something. So I asked pushkin666 to give me some characters and then I rambled about them. I think ‘character word sketches’ are best way to describe the results. Or ‘Kat’s regurgitated head-canon’.

He looks back and knows the weight of every decision he ever made, sees the shape of each path travelled, each road abandoned, feels it like an ache in his body, muscles twitching with phantom pain of life never lived. It’s foolish, he knows, but inevitable at the same time. He'd like to think it's just his age but knows it's more intimate than that, remembers the way his nonna had spread her photos on the coffee table, faded black-and-white pictures covering the delicate lace of the table cloth as she went through her memories of this friend, that lover, the lost, the found, the abandoned.  
  
The roof of his mouth tastes sour, lemon and alcohol and insomnia all clinging to his skin like ghosts. The week drags on and he lets the mail pile on the hallway floor, lets the messages gather digital dust, crowding around each other in the ether of his voicemail.  
  
When the knock on his door finally comes he's sure he imagines it, holding dust particles in his hands as he stands in the hallway, looking at the shadow behind the glass. His fingers shake on the latch, on the lapels of Craig's jacket, helpless and grateful and ever so slowly colour bleeds back.


End file.
